As often happens when people democratically connected by little other than a single interest convene, there is some incompatibility among group members. This wouldn't matter if everyone focused on the shared passion of knitting. However, one member continually hijacks the conversation and monologues about her life as it played out from about the 1940s through present, though she seems especially fond of tales from the 1960s. Does she not notice that people rarely, if ever, respond to her chatter?
As usual there was this background noise, but then a new member joined the group, and within about fifteen minutes had informed us all of her extensive and serious health issues, surgeries, and treatments IN A VERY LOUD VOICE.
That was the straw, my friends. I do not go to a knitting club to be bombarded by the semi-tragic and deeply personal information of someone who's clearly looking for...what? Sympathy? Help? To this sad person, I donate a metaphorical Kit Bag. Were she to pack her troubles into it, she might enjoy life. Meanwhile I was the one with the fake smile on my face, while inwardly I wanted to stab someone with my #3 dpns, so nice and pointy.
So, farewell to the Langworthy Knitting Association for the time being.
Yes, people need to relieve themselves of the burdens of their misery, their angst, their fears. We all have confessed or vented to close friends, family members, clergy, and paid therapists. These are either people who know and love us, or people who are professionally qualified to help folks Deal with their Issues. What does it say about someone who foists her baggage on strangers and mere acquaintances? That, like Blanche Dubois, she relies on their kindness? IMHO, it merely adds unfairly to the burdens we all carry, less or more gracefully.
Never has the maxim, Keep Calm and Carry Yarn, seemed so appropriate.
|Ted carries yarn.|